LAS (1962 / Charleston, South Carolina, US)

Hanging Toes

Standing on the edge of a cliff;
Toes hanging over the edge;
Ahead, a view that reaches in
To grab all breath away;

Looking in the face of God.

Though not looking down,
Complete awareness of
The gaping chasm below
Toes hanging over the edge;

Yawning, mystery of space.

Fear and wonder filled,
Hung in awe on a brink,
Toes hanging over the edge,
With a wind from behind,

Having never used wings.

by Lee Ann Schaffer

Comments (2)

Down here we say, 'hang by your toes' Which just goes to show That no one really knows Exactly what's the function of one's toes, But I am reminded by Dr. Suess who said, 'Nose is not toes Of which I'm glad.' Or on another thought, You can pick your friends, And you can pick your toes But you shouldn't pick your friend's toes. Still, others are seen to be Picking at their toe nails openly As if to say that they don't care What in public they share. So hang your toes out over the cliff And hope the wind's at your back So you don't get a whiff Of that awsome smell of dirty socks. (Well maybe every thing doesn't have to rhyme.) Enjoyed your poem. s
WOW! now we can grip when we have to, toes over the edge with a wind at our back, great poem.